


Concerning Elks (and Other Base and Frivilous Excuses)

by Starlord2004



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: #rememberhiselk, Bard did not know of this, Bard is shooketh, DOES ANYONE LOVE THIS ELK AS MUCH AS I DO?!?!, Elks, FEREN GIVES THRANDUIL A NEW ELK, Feren is honestly adorable and needs more love, I WANT TO KNOW HOW TO GET THRANDUILS ELK, I am going to die alone, I cried for twenty minutes, I love his elk more than anything, I love how when I search Thranduil's elk the fifth result is Thranduil's elk and how to get it, I miss his elk so much, I named his late elk Arahaeldir, I want an elk, I watched Battle of the Five Armies today and I paused the movie and cried when Thranduil's elk died, ISNT THAT SAD, It gets really sad at the end for people who care about the elk as much as I do, Legolas is a sneaky snake, Lots of implied sex, M/M, Mpreg, Oh Thranduil is so gay that he’s convinced all of the men to not take viagra, Thranduil and Bard are fooling no one, Thranduil is gay, Thranduil is so gay that everything he touches bends, Thranduil's elk is a cinnamon roll, btw in this story both male and female elves have the ability to become pregnant, does anyone agree with me on this?, every time someone watches Battle of the Five Armies an elk dies, guys I love Feren, holy tags, i'm so emotional right now, ill stop now, lets start a thing, ok moving on, speaking of which, thats why all the wood in Mirkwood is so twisty, the thing is #rememberhiselk, thranduil is fabulous, very gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 08:54:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12339477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlord2004/pseuds/Starlord2004
Summary: Legolas was not oblivious.





	Concerning Elks (and Other Base and Frivilous Excuses)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thranduil's Elk](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Thranduil%27s+Elk).



Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand  
A quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon  
I myself suspect a more prosaic motive  
Attempted burglary, or something of that ilk  
You have found a way in  
You seek which would bestow upon you the right to rule  
The King’s jewel  
The Arkenstone  
It is precious to you beyond measure  
I understand that  
There are gems in the mountain that I too desire  
White gems of pure starlight  
I offer you my help  
I will let you go if you but return what is mine  
You have my word  
One King to another  
Do not talk to me of dragonfire  
I know its wrath and ruin  
I have faced the great serpents of the North  
I warned your Grandfather of what his greed would summon, but he would not listen  
You are just like him  
Stay here, if you will, and rot  
One hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf  
I am patient  
I can wait

 

Legolas was not oblivious. He knew his father, as any good son should, yet, he knew his father more than anyone was aware of . Ever since he had become old enough to walk and comprehend information, he had watched his father quite intently. When Legolas was a youngling, he would follow the Elvenking’s every footstep. He did not find copying his Ada’s actions to be a very difficult task, but he did greatly struggle with upholding his father’s drained, unchanging, emotionless facade. Legolas was a very mischievous and easily amused child, often finding joy in small things such as leaving his petite bow and arrow on the steps of his father’s throne stairs so that the King would trip over them at the worst of times. He also did this as a way of studying his father’s anger. The bow and arrow method was most certainly not the only one he used. He committed most every young child’s crime from pouring out his father’s wine at the table and meetings to stealing his rings and breaking his staffs. Legolas did not do these things because he was an uncontrollable child, he simply did them for the sake of studying the emotion of the King. Because of all of these tests, Legolas had grown very skilled at reading his father extremely thoroughly. So, when Bard of Laketown visited Mirkwood in order to establish trade and alliances, Legolas’s encounters with his father became interesting. One might even say they became fun. Why? Because the Elvenking had absolutely no knowledge of what Legolas could perceive, and to the ambitious elf, that was beyond humorous.

Legolas knew of his father’s exciting nights. There would often be times when Legolas would lay awake in his chambers, longing for Aragorn’s embrace, woken by a horrid dream, or simply restless. It was during these times that Legolas heard the cries of his father faintly echoing through the halls from not too far away in the kingdom. They were not cries of distress. In fact, they were quite the opposite. Legolas did not exactly wish to say to himself that he knew this was the King because he knew his father’s cries, but for the reasons that Legolas knew his father’s voice instead. Hearing the Elvenking moan was an exceedingly rare occurrence. Legolas was not only accounting for sexual matters, for the King never even moaned when he was brutally wounded in battle. Still, along with that, no one ever heard Thranduil’s voice in state of ecstasy, either. To hear him screaming in a vigorous and severe state of arousal was somewhat astonishing. Legolas was, in a strange way, impressed by Bard. This was the only man who had ever been able to drive Thranduil to the point of insanity. Based off of the sounds that Legolas was subject to, what Bard was doing to Thranduil was almost obvious. He was giving him a pleasure that the King had not been able to experience since long before he wedded Legolas’s Mother. This pleasure was preferred by the King. Legolas would always be told of how much his father loved his mother, but Legolas could discern that his father was only ever attracted to one gender, hence the pleasurable night’s that Bard now brought him.

Legolas knew of his father’s marks. Thranduil had developed a habit of pulling his collar up to shield his neck from prying eyes. Legolas caught enough glimpses of what lie beneath that collar. He saw deep bruises and bites that were touched with love and lust. Legolas presumed that these marks were the results of the moans that he heard on late, clear nights. Legolas could recall a recent time when Feren timidly asked the King about the sudden discoloration of his neck and Thranduil frantically responding by reporting that he had fallen from Arahaeldir, only to remember that the elk had passed. This lead to the Elvenking sitting upon his throne, mourning the loss of one of his closest companions. It was during these times that Feren and Bard worried most for him, for Thranduil looked as if he were on the brink of death whenever he entered a state of grief. After this incident, Feren had even brought the King a new steed, another elk. Some might say that this elk, which Thranduil most affectionately named Faeldir, was even more magnificent than Arahaeldir had been. Even so, anyone who thought this didn’t dare mention it. Feren had done this partially out of covetousness, for Legolas knew of how the loyal guard desired and pined for the great King. He was hoping for something that he simply could not have. Legolas had always kept an unwavering pang of pity in the back of his mind for poor Feren’s sake, and when Feren became anxious and hurt after seeing the affectionate blemishes on Legolas’s father’s skin, the young elf’s pity for this man only strengthened. The marks were constant, and Legolas and Feren had even begun to exchange discouraged and amused looks when in the presence of their King.

Legolas knew of his father’s soreness. He had started to notice the change in his Ada’s stride. Thranduil usually walked with a resolute show of pride and confidence. Now, the King had developed a limp-like pace,, something that definitely did not benefit his intimidating character. He would often struggle to ascend staircases or to mount Faeldir, but he tried ever so valiantly not to let it go noticed. Legolas had gotten most of his share of this aspect when at the dining table. Because of the closeness of their current guests, Bard and his children whom he had been allowed to bring with him, Legolas and Thranduil had permitted the four to join them in the great hall for evening meals. At the table, Bard’s youngest had inquired about why it hurt so much when Thranduil went to be seated most anywhere. Thranduil had gone on to explain the specifics of riding Faeldir and the toll that a new and unfamiliar steed could bring upon a rider. Legolas could not help but laugh at this excuse, which earned him a surprised glance from both the bowman and his father. The children only glanced about the room out of confusion. When Legolas was confronted by Bain after the meal and asked what the meaning of it all was, the only thing that Legolas had to say to the young man was that he would find out in time. Bain was not an impatient and nagging boy, so he was quite content with an answer such as that. Legolas had watched from a distance as Bain told his sisters of what the elf had said to him. Those three would make fine stepsiblings. Legolas only humored himself. This was all just a large, elaborate theory, was it not?

Legolas knew of his father’s constant addiction to being near Bard or touching him. The two would display excessive gestures towards each other. When Thranduil would talk to Bard, he would commonly allow his hand to rest upon the bowman’s arm, while Bard would let his hand fall atop the King’s shoulder. When walking together, the two would tread so that their sides were touching, stepping to attention when one would stray from the tight formation. There had been a time when Thranduil had called Bard to the throne room to discuss the usual matters. Once Bard arrived, the two droned on about ties and beneficial compromises for both Laketown and  Mirkwood. Thranduil came down from his throne so that he would be at eye-level with the bowman. Thranduil stalked in a circle around Bard as he spoke in his low and captivating tone, the situation that they were in somewhat resembling the interaction between a predator and its prey before the time of attack. And prey was what Bard undoubtedly was, for soon, the Elvenking leaned forward to whisper something to Bard, Thranduil’s slender fingers shielding Bard’s ear and his lips. As this took place, the bowman’s face was turned a bright shade of crimson as he bit his lip. It seemed as if Thranduil was actually not telling Bard anything at all. Perhaps that was the case. Legolas did not see this himself, but he was very descriptively informed of it by Feren. In fact, Feren always told Legolas of every single one of the King’s meetings with Bard, jealousy and irremediable longing ebbing away at the poor guard’s innocent and fragile soul. 

Legolas knew of his father’s absences. There were multiple times when Thranduil would be doing nothing in particular that required great focus, and he would tell his guards to let him leave alone, for he was going to ride throughout the forest with Bard on Faeldir. No one knew of where they would go exactly, but no one dared to question it. Legolas had known that his father was out riding due to report from one of the guards, only to find that Faeldir and Bard’s horse, Beau, were still tied up in the stables. Legolas was beginning to notice that his Ada used his elk as an excuse for many things, which honestly made Legolas feel bad for the creature. There was once a time when Thranduil alerted his guards of his departure in order to ride and Legolas discovered that his father and the bowman had, in fact, stuck to their word. Nonetheless, the afternoon grew older and older, and the King and Bard failed to return. Legolas spent that afternoon with Feren. The Elven Prince stood in the throne room, leaning against one of the wooden pillars as he listened to the brunette pace and rant, worrying about his King and the sort of things that he could be doing. Legolas then gave Feren the liberty of clinging to and confiding in him when his father and the bowman returned. They were both flushed, breathless, blissful, and disoriented when they reentered the throne room. They wished one another a good night as Feren choked back tears and Legolas forced back laughs, the two preoccupied men stumbling around in wrinkled clothing and vibrant grins until their work for the night was finished.

Legolas knew of his father’s agitation. On some days it would be worse than others. Thranduil’s voice would slip into the wine of a child if he got desperate enough, or his hands and feet would start to twitch and shake until he did as much as slamming them against something. Just a few days earlier, Thranduil had been especially irritated and was not in a mood to be doing business. He called Feren to the floor for some reports and was then plunged into agony. As Feren spoke, the King started to continuously shift in his throne and cross his legs. He rested his staff against one of the antlers of the room and placed his hands in his lap as they were curled into tight fists, pressing relentlessly into the space between his legs. His feet started to tap until Thranduil finally stood and walked down the flight of stairs on his throne. As he did this, he kept his thighs very close together, creating optimal friction where the King needed it the most. He clutched his staff hard enough that his knuckles whitened. Feren had told Legolas of how Thranduil could not seem to stop moving around him, his voice strained and tense. At one point when Feren asked Thranduil a simple question regarding the gate, the Elvenking responded by screaming at his painfully devoted assistant to leave his presence at once. Feren had come crying to Legolas. The Prince held the elf close to his chest without a sliver of judgement, for he knew very well all that Feren had been through to make him this sensitive. He also was quite familiar with how intimidating and aggressive his father could be, and he could never doubt that fact.

 

So, when Thranduil told his son that he was with child, Legolas was not at all surprised. He went to Bard, telling him what he had done to his father, and finding it hysterical that impregnating the King of Wood and Stone was the way that Bard learned that both male and female elves had the ability to bear children. Legolas then broke the news to Feren, who collapsed at the Prince’s feet. Legolas offered his condolences, but Feren merely stood, brushed himself off, refused Legolas’s offer, and told his friend that he would remain true. That he did. Throughout Thranduil’s pregnancy, Feren was obviously the biggest help in keeping the King healthy and prepared for childbirth. When Thranduil did go into labor, it was the middle of the night. The birth woke the entire kingdom, those who were present for the delivery being Bard, Legolas, Bain, Sigrid, Tilda, Faeldir, for the elk was trained to find and stay by his master when in times of distress, even if he couldn’t fit through the door, and Feren, who delivered the infant himself. It was a beautiful child, the newborn boy having Bard’s black hair, eyes that were a fierce violet, such as his Grandfather, Oropher, and Thranduil’s skin tone, ears, and structure. And as the child basked in the moonlight during the first moments of his life, his Adars decided to name him Arahaeldir as a token of great loyalty, wisdom, and love. It was as if the ELvenking’s late companion had brought its head down from the stars and touched the life into the child with his wet nose, for from the moment he was born, Arahaeldir showed love and protection to all who surrounded him. Arahaeldir first reached his arms out to his parents, then to his brother, then to Faeldir, and then to Feren, who was so touched by the gesture that his jaw fell slack. Faeldir reared, Thranduil and Bard cried, and the Elven Prince smiled. Legolas was not oblivious.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly do not know why I wrote this. I watched Battle of the Five Armies this morning, and if you read the tags, you know how hard of a time I had. I'm sorry if I lead some of you on to think that this was solely about Thranduil's elk. Please, someone tell me that they mourned for Thranduil's elk as much as I did. If you love the elk more than anything, mourn with me in the comments below. #rememberhiselk
> 
> P.S.  
> You know, this kind of makes me want to write a little thing about Feren that gives him a backstory or something else. If you guys have ideas for that or want me to do it, let me know in the comments!


End file.
